


Magic lamp 500¥! Used once by mistake!

by Dancing_Crooked



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, F/M, Humor, Slow Burn, the genie is already becoming my favorite OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 19:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Crooked/pseuds/Dancing_Crooked
Summary: All she’d ever wanted was to give old, treasured things a new home. She never wished to become an old thing herself, living with an old annoying genie, in an old and ugly pawn shop… Adding a lazy old samurai and his two not-so-old kids honestly didn’t make the burden any lighter. It’s as the people of Edo say, nothing good ever comes for free.[This is NOT an OC/Gintoki fic even if a made up name is used at times! It’s just a fake name you use while managing the store. A penname, of sort. Your own name will be used in later chapters~]





	Magic lamp 500¥! Used once by mistake!

Blowing smoke rings isn’t as difficult as most people like to believe. The basics are simple: make a circle with your lips, hollow your cheeks a bit and exhale sharply. However it usually isn’t the technique which is the problem, it’s the tobacco. The cheap tobacco will never take any other shape than a tattered cloud when exhaled. But the high quality tobacco is richer and thicker, thus easier to mold to your liking.  
When the Amanto established their products in Edo, the increase in different exotic tobaccos became overwhelming. Who would have thought that there were so many different versions of the same, addictiv leaf out in the universe? Now, it’s near impossible to distinguish between good and bad tobacco. And the prices are plain outrageous too. 

You took a long and deep drag from your kiseru, circled your lips, hollowed your cheeks and exhaled strongly. A ring of smoke slowly slid before you, wobbling like a ripple on the surface of a lake, before it dissolved in random direction. 

“You’ll get wrinkles”

You sighed through your nose, the smoke burnt weakly in your nostrils and some of it traveled into your eyes. 

“Must you always interrupt me while I’m reminiscing about life?” you asked as you tapped your kiseru against the edge of the ashtray, emptying it completely. 

“Oh no! I think you’re already getting some! Now you’ll never get married, you’ll die alone and without children to take care of your funeral… Wanna wish them away, hm?”

Amber arms encircled your shoulders and a set of hands rested over your collarbones. Long and pointy nails weakly scratched against your chest. You felt a chin rest against the top of your head and a chest press against the back of your neck.  
You were laying on your side, your left hand held your head up while the right held the empty kiseru. Your left leg was stretched out straight while your right foot was placed behind your left knee, bending your leg upwards in an unladylike manner. The sun was gazing down on you like a spotlight and small flakes of dust danced in the air. The royal blue satin kimono you wore was blinding in the light and the peacock embroidery looked almost alive because of the way the fabric curved against you.

“Nice try, genie, but there will be no wish for now. There will only be one when the sun stops smiling at me while I rest right here”

You raised your kiseru and pointed at the ridiculously large hole in your roof. A few withered flowers and a white bra hung from the beams, fluttering weakly in the wind. The sky looked especially blue in contrast with the pendling insulation.  
The arms which had held you in place vanished in an instance and an annoyed screech reached your ears. You threw the kiseru on the ashtray and hastily sat up straight to glare at the lamp dweller. The genie who previously had held you so gently was pointing an accusing finger at you, his hair and decorative jewelry floating around him. 

“It was your stupid wish that caused it in the first place, fix it yourself!”

“I wished for an employee, not a squatter amanto! You broke the roof, you fix the roof! So, cough up the money you fucking pumpkin!”

“I’ve told you before, I didn’t break it on purpose! How am I supposed to know that everything here on earth is so tiny?”

“Excuses! You were probably just trying to compensate for your teeny, weeny di-” 

“AHEM!”

The pair fell into silence as their eyes shifted towards the shadows at the door. The elder looked thoroughly pissed off and the bent cigarette that hung from the corner of her mouth only added to her intimidating aura. Behind her stood a middle-aged amanto who appeared just as annoyed as the lady. Her cat ears twitched slightly.

“This town is filled with trash people. This idiot woman seems almost as worthless as that good-for-nothing man, Otose-san” The amanto accent was thick, but it couldn’t mask the insults. 

You rose from the floor and gently dusted off your kimono. You bowed deeply towards the women in the doorway and gestured for the genie to do the same. He bowed his head slightly which, sadly, was the most manners he appeared to be capable of. You threw your kisaru at him, missing his eye with a few millimetres. His distressed cries and insults fell to deaf ears.

“I’m terribly sorry that you had to witness that. Due to the rather unfortunate damages to the shop we haven’t had many customers lately, so our hospitality is slightly lacking at the moment. I am the owner of the shop, you may call me Kitchi. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance”

“Otose, owner of the Otose Snack House. This is my employee, Catherine. And asslicking won’t make us forget what we just heard, girl” rasped the older lady.  
You smiled and sighed through your nose, mourning the end of your non-existing reputation. No one had ever gained anything from insulting one of the four Devas of Kabuki district, even the genie knew that by now. You’d gained a good laugh when he’d first laid eyes on mademoiselle Saigou. 

“What can I do for you, Otose-san and Catherine-san?”

“We’re here to sell, obviously. Who would buy here?”

The genie snorted at that which earned him a cold stare from you, one filled with painful promises.

“What can I do for you, Otose-san?”

“We’re here to sell”

“Perfect! Please, show me the wares”

“Oi, don’t ignore me!” hissed Catherine. 

You followed behind the pair towards the entrance of the shop where they’d left the wares. You figured that some objects must be quite heavy for them to leave them behind in your hallway. Heavy objects meant more money from the shop, however you could sell them at an outrageous price to balance it out. It had never worked in the past, but perhaps these were the lucky items you’d been waiting for. Otose was old, she probably owned a relic or two, no? Surely you could trick her into selling for a cheap price. You smiled to yourself. You would definitely be reincarnated as an earthworm, but you would do so with a few yen to your name.

Karma hit faster than you’d anticipated. In the hallway stood a mountain of things which easily could fill a small apartment. Two sofas, a refrigerator, a broken senpuki, a TV, a table, an unwashed mat, a shounen JUMP collection which surely dated back into last year and much, much more junk.  
You turned towards the two ladies with a blank look in your eyes, waiting for one of them to laugh and tell you that they actually were there to kill you and end your miserable existence. However the two ladies simply stared back at you. 

“So, Kitchi? How much is it worth?” asked Otose impatiently.

“Otose-san, if you need to get rid of evidence it’s always easier to burn it”

“Who do you think you are! Accusing Otose-san of murder!”

“Did you just hide one of my decorated lighters in you sleeve!?”

Otose slapped Catherine at the back of her head, causing three decorated lighters to fall out of her kimono.

“Just go through it and take whatever is worth something. We’re in a hurry” hissed Otose. 

You turned away from them with a sour look. You rolled up your kimono sleeves, wanting to avoid staining the sensitive satin fabric. You slowly picked through a few things and pretended to look them over carefully.

“Is the furniture of any specific origin?” you asked as you searched for the brand label on one of the chairs.

“The 13th Shogun died in that very chair. That will be 59 5000¥, thank you”

“I don’t want it! Do you think I’m stupid!?”

“That will be 30 0000¥ for touching it, thank you”

“Do you like getting punched Catherine-san? Are you a masochist?”

In a wave of anger you’d taken ahold of the senpuki and aimed to throw it at the annoying cat eared amanto. However, as you pulled at the senpuki, an ominous grinding noise came from the tower of trash. You turned to look over your shoulder only to see the smiling features of the future pirate king falling towards you. Half of the objects tipped over and crashed out into your store, the other half miraculously stood its ground, swaying slightly.  
You, still holding the senpuki, were sprawled out on the floor amongst all the object, one issue of shounen JUMP opened perfectly over your face. You swore loudly and begun to wiggle your way back up on your feet.

“Oi, are you alright?” rasped Otose from her safe spot behind Catherine. 

“Physically yes, emotionally no. Something has ripped my favorite kimono” you grumbled sourly. 

You threw the shounen JUMP off your face, nailing Catherine between her brows, and rolled onto your side. Something had pierced through your kimono but had, luckily, missed your body. It would have been a fitting death for you, you mused, impaled underneath a garbage pile. You reached around with your arm and searched for the item. Your fingers graced a cold, wooden surface and grasped it weakly. Slowly and gently, careful not to ruin the fabric any further, you pulled it out of your kimono and into your field of view. You flipped the bokuto in your hand, reading the inscription on the hilt. 

“Lake Touya? Are you actually trying to sell me a cheap souvenir?”

Before Otose could clap back any snappy remark, the front door of the shop flew open. A young boy and girl scrambled through the entrance in a hurry, quickly moving towards the foot of Mt. Filthy. A humongous dog followed at their heels, panting happily as it smashed through the bamboo sliding door. This whole display was enough to render anyone speechless, however it was the man on top of the dog that caused you to lose your tongue.  
Without any warning, you were thrown years into the past. Images of ruined fields, trees on fire and blood mixed with mud flashed before your inner eye. You could almost smell the coarse stench of gunpowder in the air and hear the roars of men and beast alike. Like a lightning bolt on a stormy sky, a man dressed in white violently moved along the battlefield. You remembered him so vividly that you wondered if you were capable of seeing ghosts. For the man you remembered was dead, he’d fallen in battle. That’s what you’d been told by your closest friends. Surely they wouldn’t have lied to you about life and death?

“You old hag! How dare you try to sell our junk!”

His voice rang loudly in the cramped room. There was no way in this universe that you would ever forget that cry. You’d heard it so clearly and strongly on the battlefield, yelling in exertion and pain. 

You tightened your grip on the bokuto and struck the wooden flooring with the tip. The noise was sharp and caused the crowd to instinctively turn their heads towards the source of the sound. The very moment his brown eyes locked with your own furious look you raised the bokuto towards him. You sighed heavily, aiming the bokuto straight towards his heart. It would be enough for a killing blow, even with a simple bokuto. This had to be an impostor of some sort.

“Sakata Gintoki? Is that your name?”

He stood quiet, mouth moving hesitantly but without words leaving his lips.

“Um, that’s his name. I’m sorry, are you a former customer?”

It was the plain looking boy who’d spoken. You glanced at him briefly, acknowledging his reply, before returning your attention back to the man. You shook your head slowly and looked him up and down. He looked as alive as a living man could. He even looked healthier than he’d done when he was younger. You noted the three small scars on his forearm, gifts you’d given him during an intense training session. Deeming it as proof of his identity you discarded the thought of him being an impostor and lowered the bokuto. You took a deep breath through your nostrils and slowly exhaled, trying to ease the shock from your system.  
He’d never been good with silence or heavy atmospheres. Thus, like the fool he was, he’d spoken first.

“Hey, long time no see…”

Yea, since he didn’t die back then you’d make sure he died today.


End file.
